Ella’s Domain
There was no such thing as a safe place in the world of Dark Souls, but even so—
“Master?”
“What?”
“Who are these little girls?”
“Read my mind. I’m too lazy to explain.”
Fortunately, the ones protecting the three girls were Andras and Kim Jun.
Even though the rules of Dark Souls had stripped them down and nerfed them to the bone, they had already adapted.
Schk—
Two soldiers’ heads rolled at the same time.
A red line traced by Andras’s arm blade, followed by Kim Jun’s swift change in angle, struck in perfect succession.
Trash mobs couldn’t slow them down unless they were boss-level threats.
Of course, that varied from case to case.
Some trash mobs were more troublesome than bosses. In fact, countless hunters had lost their lives to monsters like that.
The laws of Dark Souls were merciless.
Even a trivial attack could leave you staggered, and once you were hit, you couldn’t flow into your next move.
That restriction didn’t spare Kim Jun, either.
Ten or so enemies, he could handle somehow.
But if hundreds swarmed him like they had in the Lion King’s citadel—
Then even Kim Jun would have been surrounded and finished off, no question about it.
“Ah. So that’s it.”
“Yeah.”
“How unfortunate.”
Andras, having skimmed Kim Jun’s thoughts, looked down at the children.
Pasia, Presentia, and Pertra.
The daughters of the royal bloodline, raised as offerings for ritual sacrifice.
You look scary, so smile when you look at them.
Understood.
The moment the giant demon’s grin spread across his face—
“Heh-heh-heh. I’ll keep you safe. Heh-heh-heh-heh.”
“Hic!”
“Eep!”
“Haaah…”
The three girls all shrank back in fear at once.
At any rate, the important thing now was finding somewhere to leave them.
Leaving them behind in the boss room, between the altar and the piles of bones, was a disgusting option.
Besides, the girls couldn’t even manage their bodily needs properly.
They’d have to be washed at least once.
“Where to?”
“What is it now, Master? Do you not have a thought in that head of yours?”
“I am thinking right now.”
The 18th floor was broadly divided into five regions.
The First Land, ruled by the Lion King.
The Swamplands, where the Reversing Clock Tower stood.
The Grasslands, the base of the rebel knights, where Strathspear Fortress was located.
The Fertile Lands, home to the manor of Count Aurelius.
The Shadow Land, where the dead walked endlessly forth.
Which one do you think is best?
Why are you talking to me in thoughts all of a sudden?
In case the children hear.
The count’s domain in the Fertile Lands was unusually prosperous for this world.
It had its own military force and stayed neutral so long as no one struck first.
On the surface, it was a flawless refuge.
He’s of royal blood. Just like these children.
Kim Jun’s memory flashed unpleasantly through his mind.
Count Aurelius.
He would approach with a friendly smile, “protect” hunters, “support” them—
and then use them.
That was all.
Even before the regression, countless people had trusted that smile and been stabbed in the back for it.
The more royal blood you gathered, the stronger the ritual grew.
Leaving the children in his care would be no different from putting them in a breeding pen.
Why is that, Master? Isn’t he family, in a way?
Exactly. That’s the problem.
There was no such thing as family here.
Blood was not a bond, but a sign of rule—and the price of sacrifice.
The royals did not protect one another.
They fed on one another.
Not the Fertile Lands.
What about the Shadow Land?
If we take the children through there, the undertakers will catch our scent. If we’re unlucky, a growth ritual could even trigger automatically.
The Grasslands?
The rebel knights of Strathspear have honor, sure. But the moment they see the children’s royal blood, their blades will come out before they even think.
Master. You really are a regressor, so you know everything.
…
In the end, only two places remained.
The outer edge of the Lion King’s territory. And an abandoned sanctuary long ago left to ruin, at the border between the swamps and the grasslands.
Before the regression, Kim Jun had used that sanctuary once.
An inscription carved into the wall read:
Those who have shed blood may not remain here.
It was a neutral zone where combat was not permitted.
It was the best place to hide the children for a while.
We’re going there. First I’ll wash the girls, then escort them to the sanctuary. After that, we head to the clock tower.
Fine. I’ll carry the little one.
Don’t say it like that. It sounds creepy.
Heh-heh. I’m kind.
I said stop doing that.
Behind the boss room was a small lake.
The water was stagnant and cloudy, but it was enough to wipe away the sweat and blood caked across their faces from battle.
Kim Jun took off his coat, soaked it in the water, and carefully wiped the children’s hands and faces clean.
When Pertra sneezed at the shock of the cold water, Andras blocked the wind with his huge palm.
His appearance was monstrous, but his touch was strangely gentle.
Once they were cleaned up, the escort began in earnest.
[The First Land - Rear Gate of the Lion King’s Citadel]
Kim Jun took point, the children stayed in the center, and Andras covered the rear.
It wasn’t as grand as the southern main gate, but the back gate was still a solid fortress door.
Double-layered structure reinforced with blackened iron plates and stone. The opening was narrow, but the thickness was considerable.
Dozens of soldiers were waiting in front of it, spears and shields set in place.
“Intruders!”
“We came from inside, though?”
At the shout from one soldier, spearpoints surged forward in unison.
Kim Jun’s greatsword rang out in a short, sharp hum.
Schk—
A red arc tore through the air, and three soldiers who had charged in with spears clenched tight collapsed backward, their waists cut in half.
Andras grabbed the head of a fourth soldier approaching from behind with one bare hand.
Crack—
With a heavy sound, the skull shattered and blood sprayed everywhere.
But the soldiers didn’t retreat.
The next line stepped forward with shields locked together, forming a wall, and spearheads thrust through the gaps once more.
“Master, twelve more left.”
“I see them.”
Kim Jun drew in a deep breath and advanced.
His greatsword swept horizontally, splitting a shield in two and sending an armored forearm spinning through the air.
On the opposite side, Andras cleaved five soldiers at once through the waist, opening a path forward.
With screams and the clang of iron armor colliding, the entire gate area was filled with noise.
After a while—
“Hoo.”
“They’re all dead, Master.”
Only the stench of blood and the bodies remained.
The back gate, once guarded by dozens, fell into silence.
[The Swamplands - Ghouls’ Reservoir]
Even outside, the air brought no relief.
The damp moisture of the swamp and the reek of rotting metal clung to everything.
They paused for a moment and handed out dried meat to the children.
The instant it was in their hands, the three devoured it without a single glance around them.
Like starving little beasts.
“Eat slower. You’ll choke.”
Kim Jun spoke quietly, but the girls only nodded and kept trying not to miss even the scraps left in their hands.
Descendants of the royal bloodline, noble by heritage.
And yet what stood before him looked like children dressed as starving beggars.
That fact pressed heavily on Kim Jun’s heart once again.
Squelch—
As they stepped into the swamp, the air grew even fouler.
Ghouls crawled up from the black, rotten water.
Monsters with flesh falling off them, dragging themselves forward on nails and bones alone.
“Master, three on the left.”
“Got it.”
Kim Jun’s greatsword split the line horizontally.
Andras swung his arm, and the rotten bodies exploded, sinking into the swamp.
Squelch-squelch—
Blobs of foul water splattered in every direction.
The children held their breath, but this time they didn’t cry.
They only clutched one another’s hands tighter.
[The Swamplands - Sanctuary of Rest]
Two hours later, perhaps.
As the fog cleared, a small ruined chapel came into view.
Behind the shattered stained glass stood a faint blue stele.
Engraved into the stone were old, cold letters.
Neutral Sanctuary: “Sanctuary of Rest”
Rule: Anyone who initiates a first attack here will face the judgment of the “Saint.”
Kim Jun carefully placed his palm against the stele.
A cool sensation seeped into his fingertips.
This sanctuary had existed long before the Tower swallowed all the worlds.
Back when each world still possessed its own independent order, a saint had built it.
She erected this stele to protect the souls of the “dead travelers.”
Travelers, or pilgrims.
Those who accepted death and wished to pass on in peace.
Under the laws of Dark Souls, the living and the dead wandered together, intermingled.
When the souls of the dead were swallowed by monsters, they became murky, corrupted, and eventually vanished altogether.
That was a second death, true annihilation.
So the saint spent all her prayers and all her life creating this sanctuary.
A “land of rest” where the dead could pause one last time before setting out on their long journey.
A sacred, inviolable boundary that protected souls for a brief moment before they were devoured by monsters.
Its traces still remained here.
The stele kept the rules of this place in lieu of a vanished god.
And if anyone drew a blade first, judgment would come at once.
Not even the monsters dared lay a hand on this area carelessly.
“Stay here.”
He led the children inside the sanctuary.
Beside the stele lay a thin blanket and some dry biscuits someone had left behind.
Instead of the swamp’s rot and the smell of blood, the air carried the scent of old dust.
Even that was enough to make this place feel livable.
Kim Jun crouched down briefly in front of the children.
Three pairs of eyes looked up at him.
“Wait here for a bit. Just a little while. I’ll be back soon once I’m done.”
“It’s scary…”
“Can’t we go with you…?”
“Huuuh…”
Small fingers clutched at his sleeve.
As if letting go would mean never seeing him again.
Kim Jun couldn’t answer for a long moment.
There was so much more he wanted to say.
Things that didn’t belong to children, things like survival—things like that.
“I’ll be back soon. Soon. Don’t worry.”
Squelch—
Once he stepped out of the sanctuary’s shadow, the swamp air wrapped around him again.
Moisture, rusted iron, and the scent of old blood mixed together and pressed hard against his throat.
The Reversing Clock Tower.
A lair of time, where the hands of the clock ran backward.
Inside it lay Count Tempora’s relic, and the Scepter of Retrograde.
“The smell here is truly the worst.”
Andras wrinkled his nose and muttered,
“Worse than Hell, Master.”
The swamp came up to their ankles, and unknown rotting crops floated on the water’s surface.
Each time they took a step, things that might have been skulls or stones crunched underfoot.
Rotten weeds and bones tangled together into a swampy mire, and every time they lifted a foot, a wet, sucking sound followed.
Far away, when the wind shifted, the silhouette of a tower shimmered into view, iced over with a chill that seemed to bite the eyes.
The Reversing Clock Tower.
The tower was grotesquely twisted, as if built by stacking dead corpses.
Huge and tiny clock hands turned backward along the walls, making an eerie grinding sound.
Between the cracked surfaces of the tower, blue light and some unknown machine-like structure could be seen exposed.
They walked and walked until the place before their eyes finally drew near.
The instant Kim Jun set foot inside the Reversing Clock Tower—
The Red Inquisitor has invaded.
Eliminate the intruder.
Red mist slowly rose over the swamp.
Within it, the shape of a person emerged.
A face wrapped in leather, a ritual cloak soaked red with blood, and souls screaming from the tip of a spear.
“Who are you?”
“…”
43